


Expansion

by gonergone



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 16:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2819423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonergone/pseuds/gonergone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing was, Ronan had never actually thought that the thing with Adam was an actual thing.<br/>Missing scenes around the events of the third book.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Isis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isis/gifts).



Ronan hated Adam's little apartment with its slanted walls and sparse furniture. _Hated_ it. He saw it as proof of Adam's difference, of the way he held himself apart from Gansey and Ronan – or just Gansey, maybe. Ronan understood, mostly, about pride and fear. Gansey wouldn't, because things had always come too easily to Gansey, but Ronan did, even if he still picked at the edges of Adam's pride and tried to get him to bend, just a little. The fight over the tuition payment, the books he'd bought at the bookstore and then had the staff put used stickers on so Adam could get them discounted… he understood why Adam needed all of it, but that didn't mean it still wasn't a pain in the ass to dance around and do things behind his back just to make him take gifts that had nothing to do with charity. 

Adam was the only person in the world that Ronan would go to that trouble for, but that didn't mean he liked it. 

*

Ronan hated Adam's apartment, but it was where Adam spent what little free time he had between school and work, so it was where Ronan tended to be, too, even if he didn't really want to be.

After the first week of sitting in Adam's mismatched kitchen chairs at the table that rocked annoyingly, Ronan had stopped at the Henrietta second hand shop and bought himself an overstuffed recliner that was uglier than anything he'd ever seen. Anything not in a nightmare, anyway. He knew if he got something nice then Adam would assume it was a gift and get pissy, but he thought Adam would accept something ugly and misshapen because Adam thought that was the only sort of thing he deserved.

He'd loved the look on Adam's face when he hauled it in, but mostly he loved what it said that Adam didn't make him haul it right back out again: that Ronan belonged there, that there was something in that cramped little apartment that was his, and Adam was okay with that.

*

When he pounded on the door Adam let him in after a few minutes, the dark bags still under his eyes from the previous day, or the previous week, or the previous year. Ronan was starting to think Adam had been born exhausted, and that Cabeswater was just finishing him up, burning the last of his candle stub down to nothing. He wished Adam would at least pretend to put up a fight, to care even a little. The one thing he had always been able to count on Adam caring about had been the future, bright and Henrietta-free, but now not even that seemed to matter. When he looked at Ronan sometimes there was a blankness in his eyes that made Ronan's skin itch. 

"Didn't you sleep?" Ronan asked. He flung himself into his chair as Chainsaw perched along the headrest, easy and familiar.

"I was studying," Adam said distractedly. His books were lying open on the table, a mug of tea beside them. 

"Don't let me stop you."

"I wasn't going to."

Ronan lay his head back and closed his eyes.

"We have a Latin test tomorrow." Adam reminded him, but it was a rote scolding, without heat. Gansey was the one who really cared about Ronan's grades, and they both knew it.

Ronan shrugged, his eyes still closed.

"Fine, but I need to concentrate." Adam was already sitting down, positioning the chair so its back was to Ronan. He couldn't sit facing him; Ronan was a distraction even when he was sitting still.

"If you gave me a key I wouldn't have to bother you every time I come over," Ronan pointed out, sprawling more comfortably in his chair. "I could just let myself in."

Adam snorted, already losing himself back in declensions. It gave Ronan a chance to crack open his eyes and study him, the long pale throat and thin fingers with the square nails. Those hands had always featured prominently in Ronan's dreams of Adam, along with Adam's voice and the private, quiet smile Adam had sometimes when he thought no one was looking.

Ronan was always looking; that was part of the problem.

*

A lot of the time, Ronan's dreams about Adam went like this: 

Cabeswater, the sun shining through the green leaves of the trees, everything peaceful. Whispering in the trees around him, but no sense of urgency. There would never be a sense of menace, not at the beginning. 

Then he would hear the footsteps. He would know, before he turned around, that it wasn't the girl hiding in the shadows. In the dreams, but only in the dreams, he could feel Adam, could close his eyes and know exactly where he was – the part of him that was Cabeswater, anyway. Ronan didn't know what that meant, if it meant anything at all, other than that he was Cabeswater's Greywaren, and the energy that ran through both of them was the same. 

Dream Adam was a poor imitation of the real thing. Even in the dream Ronan could tell, but it was still as close as he'd ever get to having the real Adam, so he took it. 

Dream Adam would wait in the shadows until Ronan went after him, waiting and watching Ronan from the darkness, his smile like a beacon when Ronan touched his arm. Adam would never come into the light, so Ronan would step into the dimness next to him, stand close to him and slowly move his hand from Adam's wrist to his elbow, his shoulder, his chest. The real Adam had never seemed to have a problem with Ronan touching him, but Ronan didn't think he had any idea of how much Ronan really wanted to touch him, everywhere. 

At least in the dream he could.

And did, falling to his knees and unbuckling Adam's jeans slowly, running his fingers over the warm skin of Adam's abdomen. There was the vague fear that he'd wake up before he wanted to, that the dream would shift out of his control at any second. It had happened before. That was his biggest fear, and the reason he always forced these encounters straight to the point: this was all of Adam that he'd ever get, so he couldn't miss out on any of it.

From his knees, he would always look up the length of Adam's body, meeting Adam's wide eyes, Adam's mouth always open slightly, a pink flash of tongue wetting his lips. Ronan had enough evidence that Dream Adam was into it – he pressed the heel of his hand against the bulge in Adam's crotch and got a satisfying hiss of an intake of breath – but it was the look on Adam's face that mattered more, the naked yearning for Ronan, and the fact that Adam was letting him see it. 

The real Adam would never let his emotions show so completely.

Remembering that fact helped ground Ronan as he rubbed his thumb impatiently along the jean-clad shaft. When he shoved the jeans down Adam's thighs, he pushed Adam lightly back against a tree, one of Adam's hands moving to lightly touch his shorn head, the back of his ear. Those touches meant so much to Ronan because they were the places that Adam tended to touch, jokingly – and of course Ronan had every touch, accidental or not, cataloged in his mind, and eventually he thought he'd have cycled through all of them in one dream or another.

He closed his eyes when he took Adam into his mouth, the feel and taste of him familiar and comforting. The thing that Ronan would admit to no one, ever, was the he fucking _loved_ giving head, loved teasing out the tiny moans and cries despite Adam's best efforts to keep quiet, loved feeling the tremors in Adam's legs and the way his drew up so tight as he was right on the edge, and the sudden, sharp pain of Adam's fingernails digging into Ronan's flesh as he came, the whisper of Ronan's name as he slid down the tree trunk and sat hunched on the ground, spent.

That was usually when he'd wake up, his body taut and his dick hard. He never got to get off in his own dreams, which was _ridiculous_ , he was going to have to take that up with the fucking management one of these days, and was always something he took care of quickly and efficiently, one ear cocked for Gansey or Noah.

Afterward, he would usually roll onto his back and stare at the ceiling for a long time before he fell back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

No one was in a particularly good mood when they drove home after Cabeswater wasn't where they'd left it. All the nervous energy had seeped out of the car, and the silence was as oppressive as the heat.

Ronan had kept his leg tucked against Adam's, and despite the heat Adam hadn't moved away, either. 

So that was something. One small thing.

For Ronan, it wasn't about Cabeswater disappearing. It was about Declan bringing the battery for the Pig, _needing_ Declan to bring the battery and being helpless to prevent it. Of feeling, in the moment when Gansey called him, that Gansey was choosing Declan over Ronan's absolute need not to have Declan in his life, ever. Of Gansey not caring enough about Ronan to stop, to listen to him.

He got out at Adam's, even though Adam would have to go to work in a few hours and Ronan would probably have to walk back to Monmouth. None of that mattered. Ronan just wanted to be somewhere quiet to get himself together, and he knew Gansey wasn't going to be quiet, _couldn't_ be quiet with Cabeswater MIA. Adam could always be counted on for quiet, to be the endless dark pool that all of Ronan's shouting and anger could disappear into without making any ripples on the surface at all. It gave Ronan the feeling that Adam was untouchable, that even Ronan, dangerous, untethered Ronan, couldn't break him, no matter how hard he tried. When Ronan felt like this: wild, when the faintest spark could set him off, it was Adam whose company he needed. 

*

Sometimes Ronan slept at the church, but now he did it sober. It was easy to fall asleep to the smell of incense built up in the pews over decades, mixed with wood and a thousand other things that all meant safety to Ronan. He could see the dim outline of the moon behind the stained glass at the front of the church, not quite big enough to cast shadows.

He lay with his cheek pressed against the cool wood, listening to Chainsaw rummaging near the altar for some bit of food.

He wasn't sure what woke him. It was still quiet, and dark, and the moon had moved out of sight of the windows. He knew immediately that he wasn't alone, even before he made out the still form sitting silently next to his feet, face turned to the front of the church. If Ronan hadn't known better, he might have thought it was praying. 

"Why are you here?" Ronan asked, his voice thick.

"I _live_ here," Adam reminded him, not moving. 

"Upstairs," Ronan pointed out. "Why are you _here_?" Ronan nudged him with a foot.

Adam ignored him. 

Ronan's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

"What makes you think something happened?"

"I don't think something happened, I know it," Ronan told him. "You're talking to me, now, not Gansey."

"What does that matter?" Adam asked, low, and he was still refusing to look at Ronan in exactly the way that always drove Ronan nuts. That always made him want to do something stupid and regrettable to _make_ Adam look at him, acknowledge him.

"You're a shitty liar on your best day, Parrish," he said instead. And Adam hadn't had a best day in while, but Ronan didn't have to say that out loud. They both knew it.

"Nothing happened," Adam insisted, but his voice lacked its usual conviction. "It's just –" he broke off, swallowing.

"Is it –" _your dad_ , Ronan wanted to ask, but he knew neither of them wanted to talk about that. 

"Blue," Adam sighed.

Ronan blinked. That wasn't what he had been expecting, but it probably should have been. "What about her? Is she okay?"

Adam didn't respond for a long moment. "Yes, I think so. She was this afternoon." He hunched further down, as if trying to disappear into the pew. "We broke up, I guess. If you can even call it that."

"Why wouldn't you call it that?"

Adam shrugged, his face still and blank in a way that was seriously going to make Ronan crazy in about a minute. "We never even kissed. Does that count as a relationship?"

"Of course it does. You held hands. You…" he trailed off, swallowing. "When I held hands with a girl it counted. For her. I mean… she thought it was a whole thing. She wasn't very happy when I told her I didn't want to be her boyfriend."

That was enough to make Adam look at him. "You held hands with a girl?"

"Well, I was six," Ronan shrugged, embarrassed. He hated talking about the past. "I didn't realize I was agreeing to marry her."

One side of Adam's mouth twitched, and Ronan knew it had been worth it. "I hope you explained the situation and she eventually got over you."

"She pushed me off the swing into the mud," Ronan muttered. "And Declan laughed at me." Matthew had laughed, too, when he saw him, but that didn't count. It never stung the same way. 

"So you're saying I should push Blue into the mud?" Adam pretended to consider it.

"I'm saying – " Ronan wasn't entirely sure what he was saying. He rubbed a hand over his head tiredly. "I guess? If you think it will make you feel better. Pretty sure she would kick your ass, though." 

Adam snorted. "She would. Yours, too."

"Mine? What the hell did I do?"

"You told me to push her into the mud," Adam shrugged. "Obviously."

Ronan shook his head slowly. "I try to help a friend out, and all I get is him ratting me out."

"I wouldn't need to rat you out!" Adam protested. "She would know. Pushing people in the mud has you written all over it."

"I would like to think that I have gotten slightly more sophisticated with age," Ronan said loftily. " _Peccantem me quotidie, et non poenitentem, timor mortis conturbat me. Quia in inferno nulla est redemptio, miserere mei, Deus, et salva me_."

Adam rolled his eyes, smiling. A real smile. "That only works if you really repent, you know."

It wasn't much, but Ronan thought it was better than nothing. 

*

The day after the foray into the cave, Ronan lay in bed staring at the ceiling for a long time. He didn't want to sleep, and he definitely didn't want to dream. 

Gansey had been afraid in that cave. _Really_ afraid. _Gansey_. Ronan wouldn't have thought it was possible for Gansey, of all people, to be so afraid of anything that had to do with Glendower. Gansey was the one who bulldozed everyone else's fears and concerns and objections, and had since the beginning. Gansey being afraid when they were finally getting somewhere was like… it was like… Ronan couldn't even imagine. 

Even worse: he knew Gansey's fear was justified. He didn't doubt for a second that there had been hornets down in the cavern. If he hadn't been there, if Adam hadn't, would they have stayed hornets? Would Gansey have died in that cave? And why would Cabeswater do that to Gansey? Hadn't he – hadn't they _all_ done everything they were supposed to?

If Cabeswater could be so cruel, so capricious, was it something they should really be getting involved with? Or was it all too late, anyway?

Ronan certainly wasn't afraid to die, but he couldn't imagine losing Gansey. That possibility filled him with a terrible dread, and he knew if he tried to sleep he'd have nightmares. 

He got up and grabbed his coat, holding his arm out impatiently for Chainsaw.

Ronan wasn't afraid to die, but there was something he wanted to make sure he did first. 

*

He wasn't surprised when he pulled up outside and saw the light on the second floor. Of course Adam would be up, too. It was comforting and annoying how in sync they were, because Ronan wasn't entirely sure anymore if it was really them, or Cabeswater reaching out through them, making them dance like the puppets they were.

Adam let him in without a word. He looked haggard, and as angry as Ronan felt, which was good. Ronan wondered if he'd try to punch him, if Adam had ever thrown a decent punch in his entire life. With everything else going on, it seemed like a good time to learn.

When Ronan touched his wrist, as he'd touched it so many times in the dreams, the real Adam flinched but didn't pull away. His eyes widened when Ronan leaned forward, but he still didn't pull away, even when Ronan pressed their lips together. He could feel Adam's tension, his absolute lack of response. It wasn't what Ronan wanted, not even a little, but it still felt good and he hated himself for that. 

When Ronan finally pulled away, they both stared at each other for a long moment. 

Adam put a hand up and touched his lips lightly. "Is that all?"

"All?" Ronan raised an eyebrow.

Adam shrugged, his gaze skittering away from Ronan's face. 

Ronan considered the possible implications of is, watching Adam determinately _not_ watching him. "No?"

Adam nodded. "Good." 

And that was the only time they talked about it. 

*

Adam wasn't a very good kisser. It was true that neither of them had much experience, but Ronan liked to think his enthusiasm made up for his lack of skill. Adam, on the other hand, seemed uncertain, _timori_ , as if he weren't completely committed to doing it in the first place. Which, Ronan mused, he probably wasn't. That didn't matter, though. Nothing mattered except that Adam, the _real_ Adam, was sitting next to him on Adam's bed, one hand braced on Ronan's chest, the other on the sheet next to his thigh, and his mouth was pressed against Ronan's. Kissing Ronan. He and Ronan were kissing. _Kissing_. It wasn't that Ronan had thought such a thing was completely impossible; he had just thought it was mostly impossible, and probably had to involve some sort of head injury or amnesia on Adam's part. He had never kidded himself with the idea that Adam was at all into guys, or specifically into him, so he had never really expected anything between them to happen. He had just hoped. 

Now that it _was_ happening, he would gladly take all the bad kissing in the world.


	3. Chapter 3

When the door to the second floor banged open Ronan hadn't even really registered it, assuming it was Gansey. It wasn't until there was a knock on his door that Ronan hit pause on his music. If it were Gansey, he would have opened the door already. If it were Noah, he probably would just have appeared in the room. Somehow, he was still surprised when he opened the door and saw Adam. 

"I thought you were busy this afternoon," he said. He was suddenly extremely conscious of the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt, even though Adam had seen him in less clothing a hundred times, a thousand.

"I thought I would be," Adam shrugged, "but as it turns out, the thing I need to do has to wait."

"Which was?" Ronan pressed.

Adam looked away. "Something for Cabeswater. It doesn't matter."

It drove Ronan batshit when Adam acted squirrely about things like this around him, and he knew Adam knew it. He also knew he wasn't going to get anything if he pushed Adam and Adam didn't want to talk. It was one of the many infuriating things about him, and at the moment it was the _most_ infuriating thing, number one with a bullet. "What the fuck is Cabeswater asking you to do? Errands?" he asked incredulously.

Adam only shrugged again, his mouth going tight. "Something like that."

"What – " Ronan started, his hands balling in frustration, but he stopped when he saw the look on Adam's face.

Adam crossed his arms, his skin pale in the dim light of Ronan's room. "Look, do you want to hang out, or not? I have homework to do."

He probably had a million other things to do, but he was still willing to spend time with Ronan – as long as Ronan let it go. Ronan knew that Adam didn't make idle threats. He backed off, knowing he would bring it up again later, after, when Adam was going to leave anyway.

Ronan held the door open, reaching for his discarded t-shirt after Adam was inside. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to be shirtless around Adam anymore, or if it would be seen as pushing too hard. 

"You might as well leave it off," Adam told him, and Ronan dropped it immediately on the floor, easy as breathing.

He touched Adam's cheek, his hair, before leaning in slowly, the way he had with Chainsaw when she was a baby and so small and fragile. Some of the time, a lot of the time, he felt like this thing with Adam, whatever it was, was just as small and fragile. If not more so.

Kissing was easy and familiar by then, but it was still exciting because it was Adam. 

Adam's fingertips skated gently along Ronan's bare shoulders, rough and cool against Ronan's heated skin. It was still so unexpected to have someone touch him that Ronan swallowed hard when Adam's hands moved to his chest, touching in their hesitant way. When Adam pulled away, it took Ronan a moment to realize what was happening, and he blinked at Adam.

"What's wrong?" They were both flushed.

Adam bit his lip. "Turn around."

Ronan's eyebrow must have raised, because Adam rolled his eyes. "I want to see your tattoo."

"You've seen it."

"I've seen it," Adam agreed, "but I've never _looked at_ it." He took a breath and met Ronan's eyes. "You've never liked people looking too closely at it." His Henrietta accent twanged slightly at the end, convincing Ronan that this was important to Adam, That he was nervous asking. 

Ronan twisted around, finally just laying down on the bed so Adam could see as much of it as possible – some bits, Ronan knew, snaked down under the waistband of his jeans or around his neck slightly, but it was most of it. It was enough.

He felt the bed shift as Adam leaned over to get a better look, the silence spinning out for several minutes until Adam's fingertips lightly pressed against a spot on his shoulder blade and Ronan tried to remember what was there. A Raven, maybe. There were a lot of ravens, mixed in with other stuff, and a couple of things that could be mistaken for ravens, all feathers and beaks. Somehow he didn't think Adam was going to make that mistake, though.

Adam's fingers disappeared and were replaced by a hot puff of air, the only warning Ronan got before he felt Adam's lips gently pressed against his skin. There was a pause, and Adam kissed his back again, slightly to the right, and again, slightly to the left. It was such a small thing, but easily far more erotic than all of the blow jobs Ronan had been dreaming for the past two years. 

He let his own breath out slowly, hoping Adam wouldn't stop.

Which meant Adam stopped, of course.

He touched Ronan's shoulder. "Turn over."

"Why?" It came out slightly more breathlessly than Ronan had intended.

"Because I want to kiss you on the mouth, asshole."

Ronan flipped around, but when he went to sit up Adam pushed him back to the mattress and sliding gradually on top of him, watching Ronan's face, as if there were any universe in which Ronan wouldn't be okay with this.

Their mouths met, and the angle was new and awkward, but exciting, too, because Ronan couldn't forget for a second that he could feel the entire length of Adam's body against him warm even though his clothes and so alive and _real_. It was good – really, really good – but it wasn't enough. What he wanted most of all was to feel Adam's skin against his.

Ronan slipped his hand up the back of Adam's Aglionby sweater. It was the smallest of caresses, but he was still worried Adam would pull away, probably leave. Instead, Adam sat up, pink and breathing hard, and studied Ronan with the wary, watchful expression that Ronan had seen more times than he could count. Before Ronan could try to figure out what he was thinking, Adam pulled the sweater over his head, folded it once and dropped it on the pillow. He hesitated slightly more over the shirt he was wearing under it, but slowly taking it off, too, folding it precisely so it wouldn't wrinkle.

He looked Ronan in the eye, swallowing. Ronan could see the tense set of his shoulders; Adam had never been as comfortable with casual nudity as Ronan or most of their classmates, for that matter, and all he wanted to do was cover himself from view.

Ronan raised his hands deliberately, giving Adam plenty of time to stop him if he needed to. He relaxed only slightly when Adam didn't, his fingers skating across Adam's pale stomach, feeling it tremble slightly. When Adam kissed him it felt like a gift that he didn't ask Ronan to stop.

*

It was two days later when Ronan got home and found Malory out, Noah wherever the fuck Noah went, and only Gansey in, sitting at his desk and coiling some rope. "We need to all talk before tomorrow morning," Gansey said immediately, efficient as always, "and we need to make sure we have everything ready. At least we have some idea what we'll be up against this time, but I don't think we can go ill-prepared at all." He sighed. "Parrish is at work tonight?"

Ronan nodded, watching Gansey's hands move on the rope until he just thought _fuck it_. He cleared his throat. "You should know… Adam and I seeing each other."

Gansey's eyebrows went up, his hands stilling. "Seeing each other?" he repeated.

"Jesus, Gansey. We're fucking. Just, you know, FYI."

Gansey's mouth opened in a small round o, and he stayed so still for so long that Ronan poked him in the chest.

"That was unnecessary," Gansey told him, rubbing the spot. 

Ronan snorted. 

"I'm just surprised. I'm allowed to be surprised, aren’t I?" Gansey pushed his glasses up his nose absently. "I didn't think Adam even liked other men."

"He doesn't," Ronan said, his voice lower and harsher than he meant it to be. It hurt admitting it, but he couldn't lie, not even about this. "It's more of an any-port-in-a-storm type situation."

Gansey looked at him so piercingly that Ronan had to look away. "That doesn't really sound like Adam," he said slowly.

"Adam hasn't really been Adam much lately," Ronan muttered. "Anyway, it doesn't change anything, okay?" he went on. "I just thought you should know." 

Gansey nodded, looking thoughtful. Ronan got out of there before he could say something else – something pitying, probably, knowing Gansey – and ruin it. 

*

They left class together, Ronan's shoulder hitting Adam's companionably. It was almost just like old times, the way Adam stayed close to Ronan, closer, if Ronan had to be honest with himself, than most just-friends would. It had always been one of the most frustrating parts of their friendship, because it had always given him the glimmer of hope that led to the disappointment. The illusion was shattered when Adam looked over at him, head cocked in that way he had now.

Ronan raised an eyebrow. 

"What are you doing this afternoon?" 

Ronan's other eyebrow raised, too. "I thought you were studying."

"I always need to study," Adam shrugged. "If you want to come over for a little while, I wouldn't mind."

*

Adam lay back on the mattress as Ronan kissed him. He slipped his hands up past Ronan's shirttails to his bare back, tracing light circles on the heated skin and making Ronan's body jittery with anticipation. He had never thought anything could happen between them, not really, and everything they did, from kissing to touching to getting each other off, Ronan felt like it was enough, it was so far beyond his expectations that he couldn't want anything more. Somehow, though, somehow he always did, greedy bastard that he was. 

Ronan yanked off his Aglionby sweater and tossed it onto the floor. He was working on Adam's tie, the knot slipping frustratingly through his fingers when Adam pushed his hands away and did it himself, his movements quick and steady. He pulled it over his head and moved on to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them carefully. He was more cautious than Ronan was, clumsy fingers pulling his own shirt open with buttons flying, rattling against the wall.

Ronan bent forward and kissed the small triangle of Adam's throat that was exposed, moving down to his chest and sucking hard. Marking him, but only where no one else would be able to see. He knew Adam would kill him if it were any other way.

"My shirt," Adam breathed, and it took Ronan a minute to figure out what he meant. It was bunched up, and of course that would bother Adam. "Just let me – " He sat up and pulled it off, yanking lightly on the wrists instead of undoing the buttons. To Ronan's surprise, instead of lying back down he undid his cheap belt and then his khakis. These he folded twice and placed carefully on the floor. He raised an eyebrow at Ronan. "Well?"

Ronan hurriedly tugged off his own pants, licking his lips as he watched Adam's eyes rove over his pale skin. Seeing Adam's desire was almost as good as feeling it, and it was still a surprise every time. If Ronan had ever been able to tell what Adam actually wanted, he figured his life would be at least 80 percent easier. Maybe 90. Adam wasn't as fragile as Ronan tended to think he was, but he wasn't as tough as he pretended, either. Ronan could know him forever and never solve him, and that bothered him.

He pressed Adam back down, his mouth moving down to his nipples, down the trail of sparse hair to his navel. He could feel Adam's stomach quivering under his mouth. He paused there, slowly bringing his hand up to palm down Adam's skin to the waistband of his boxers, then dipping inside them. His thumb ran over the hardness of Adam's cock, and Ronan watched Adam's face: eyes closed, he swallowed hard as Ronan palmed him.

"Do you want me to stop?" Part of him hoped Adam would say yes, would put a stop to this before it got out of control. They were crossing the Rubicon now, and there would never be any going back.

"No." Adam licked his lips and looked Ronan squarely in the eye, as if he could hear his thoughts. "Don't stop."

So Ronan didn't.

*

Ronan lay on the mattress and watched Adam pull on his clothes. The anxiety was back; he could see that just from the taut lines of Adam's body, the downward pull of his mouth. 

"I need to study," Adam said, waving a hand at Ronan to get up.

"I'm not stopping you," Ronan pointed out. He spread his legs, getting more comfortable.

Adam huffed at him impatiently. "Yes, you are. You know you are, asshole. I only have a couple of hours until I need to get to work, and I can't really study if you're here… like that." His gave slid down Ronan's form, jerking away when he got to his crotch. Ronan was pretty sure he was blushing, and he just looked so _Adam_ that for a moment Ronan didn't know what to say.

"Too tempting?" Ronan finally asked.

Rolling his eyes, Adam grabbed his jeans and tossed them at Ronan's face. "I mean it."

He did mean it, and pushing Adam past all reason had always been Ronan's favorite hobby. He grinned slowly.

" _Ronan_ ," Adam warned, "if you don't leave now, I'm not inviting you over again."

That was his trump card, of course, and they both knew it. As he rolled off the mattress, Ronan wondered fleetingly if Adam had only slept with him as a way to finally make Ronan do what he was told. 

*

After Persephone died, after the long evening and the ambulance and all the shock and grief, Adam surprised him by coming back to Monmouth with him. It wasn't that Ronan wasn't up for something, because the truth was that Ronan was always up for something, especially with Adam: he would take whatever Adam would give, any time, any thing. Ever. But he knew _Adam_ wasn't up for it, and the idea of having sex with a grieving Adam made his skin crawl.

He stood by the door, uncertain, while Adam sat on the edge of the bed. He looked at Ronan calmly, appraisingly, the sort of look that Ronan hadn't gotten from him in a long time. Ronan could feel a slight thread of worry beginning to creep up his chest. He half expected Adam's next words to be the standard _we need to talk_ , and was surprised when they weren't.

"I have something for you," Adam said, reaching into his pocket. "I was going to give it to you earlier, but…" he shrugged, and Ronan nodded slowly. It had been a long day.

He passed Ronan something that was cold and hard, and it took Ronan a minute to figure out what it was because he was watching Adam's face, the expression shifting between appraising and determined, and _that_ was the Adam Parrish Ronan knew, the determined motherfucker who did hard things even when he was sure they were going to come back and bite him in the ass. That was the look he always got, and the fact that he had it now didn't bode particularly well.

Ronan blinked at the shiny silver key in his hand. "This is –"

"To my place." Adam was looking over at Chainsaw's empty cage, his hands balled in his lap. "I thought it would be easier, so you could just come and go."

"And not disturb your studying," Ronan finished, one side of his mouth quirking up.

"Right." Adam looked up at him and away, quick.

Ronan turned the key over in his hands. For him, something like this was nothing. For Adam, though, it was everything. He stuck it into his pocket before Adam could change his mind and take it back. 

Adam cleared his throat, his cheeks pink. "We have work to do," he reminded Ronan. 

Ronan sighed. Greenmantle. The idea of actually going to his place and confronting him was almost as repulsive as actually pulling the stuff out of his dream had been. What Ronan wanted to do was beat the shit out of him – clean and simple – and this whole complicated plot they'd created rubbed him wrong every single way it could. 

Adam stood, crowding Ronan against the wall for a quick kiss before heading out, and it was enough to remind Ronan (as if he could forget) why the stupid, complicated plot was worth it to protect Adam and Matthew and Blue and everyone else. That was how things had to be, and it was worth it.


End file.
